


Si Poco a Poco Dejas de Quererme (dejaré de quererte poco a poco)

by pipitass



Series: Si tú me olvidas [2]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-21
Updated: 2015-10-12
Packaged: 2018-04-22 16:48:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4842962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pipitass/pseuds/pipitass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything carries me to you, as if everything that exists, aromas, light, metals, were little boats that sail toward those isles of yours that wait for me. </p><p>OR: 5 people that try to help Kun get over Leo (+1 who actually does)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 5 people who try to help Kun get over Leo

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rabia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rabia/gifts), [dexterously](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dexterously/gifts).



> Title and description are from 'If you forget me' by Pablo Neruda. Any mistakes are my own. Enjoy!

"I love you."

Leo doesn't stop what he's doing. He finishes writing out a text to Neymar, who'd just arrived to the US after being suspended from Copa America. After a long while, during which Kun had been silent, observing Leo's face remain impassive, the shorter man looks up at him. There is a hint of a smile on his lips, a knowing glance in his eyes. "I know."

Kun shakes his head, starts to feel the beginnings of a ramble at his lips, "I didn't mean it as-"

"As friends. I know," for a moment he sees Leo's eyes shift downwards, and there was a touch of uncertainty about his features. But all that disappears as Leo looks back at Kun with a plea for forgiveness hidden in the back of his stare. "I've known for a while now."

A deep breath fills his lungs as Kun tries to not let panic overtake his actions. He can feel his body tensing up, the blood pumping faster, his cheeks heating up. He dares not move a muscle as he speaks. "Why didn't you say anything?"

Leo gulps, his breath wavers, his voice hitches, and although he's not the one who's going to get his heart broken, he feels like a part of him is dying with the words he is forced to speak. "Because I don't love you back."

-

1.

It's as if they're all waiting for the news when he gets back. The cold Manchester weather has a soothing effect, and for once in his life he does not miss the bright and sunny skies of his beloved Argentina. The soft morning drizzle sprays his face whenever he goes out to take a walk, and it's the perfect excuse to disguise the tears that more often than not trickle down his face.

Of course, there are consolations first. Soft pats on the back, muttered words of comfort, reassuring teammates that say with conviction that Argentina was the better team. He's not the only one those words are directed at. Martín and Pablo nod along and give their thanks, whilst Willy just hangs his head a bit, smiling just slightly when Fernando gives him a friendly rub on the head. Kun just stands slightly apart from the rest of them, remains expressionless, and goes over to his locker where he takes out his boots and then slams it shut, leaving the changing room with tired yet hasty steps.

As soon as he's gone, all eyes turn to Pablo, who crosses his arms and sighs.

"He did it," he says, with a sad smile on his face that answers the question most of his teammates had in their heads.

They all feel for him, they really do. Kun trusts all of them with his life, some more than others, but he still considers all of them people he can talk to about his problems whenever he needs to. They'd known he'd been pining after Leo for years, and after some convincing words from all of them before he left for Argentina, Kun had decided he'd had enough of keeping quiet.

"It didn't go very well, did it?" Joe fiddles with his gloves as he says so, knowing it is more of a statement than a question. Pablo just shrugs, standing up and going out onto the training field, leaving behind a locker room full of long faces.

-

Training feels like hell to Kun.

He's tired, sore, aching all over. Every breath he takes feels like fire coursing through his lungs, and not even a whole bottle of water can douse the flames that inhabit his body. It goes by slower than usual, not just for him, but for all of them, and they all know it is because they are missing the cheery laughter and silly antics that characterise their sessions.

Vincent is worried that Raheem and Nicolás will get the wrong impression, so he tries his best to crack jokes which are not funny, and pull pranks that don't work out. Joe eyes him with a skeptical look all session, and Yaya just rolls his eyes at him whenever he makes an attempt at being the life and soul of the team.

When they're done, Vinnie walks over to Kun, who is sulking by his locker, head in his hands.

"Sergio," Kun looks up at him, tries his best at smiling. "I'm going over to the Children's Hospital right now. Why don't you tag along?"

Kun looks puzzled, turns back to his locker and fiddles with the label on one of his deodorant cans, "I didn't know we had a PR event scheduled for today."

Vinnie just laughs, "We don't, I just felt like going. It would be a nice thing to do, don't you think?"

To be perfectly honest, Kun doesn't want to go. He feels like going back home and creeping into his bed, wrapping himself up in blankets and forgetting for a moment the implications of what had happened that summer. He almost says no, but Vinnie is looking at him with his captain look, the one he uses when he's yelling at them during the 85th minute of a still 0-0 match and telling them to 'move their fucking arses'. There's no way he's saying no, and Vinnie knows that too, so he doesn't even wait for a reply, just gives Kun a pat on the back and walks out of the dressing room, a silent signal for Kun to follow.

-

Despite coming unannounced, the head doctor has no problems with them visiting some of the kids. Kun is a little reserved at first, standing back for a bit and watching Vinnie high-five a small boy wearing last season's away jersey and a bandana on his head. Vinnie looks back at him, gives him a slight look that tells Kun to cut the crap, or else he'd be the one picking up the training equipment the next day.

But really, Kun doesn't feel like being his usual bubbly self, so he wanders about, taking pictures with some kids whose parents are there, and doing his best at not looking like maybe he should book an appointment with a psychologist anytime soon.

After a while, he finds himself wandering around the hospital looking for a bathroom. On his way there, he stumbles across a young girl. She's dressed in pink from head to toe, and is struggling as she rolls her wheelchair through the hallway.

"Do you need any help?" Kun offers. She looks like she's barely 13, wavy brown hair covering her wide hazel eyes as she looked up.

Nodding, she muttered her thanks.

"Where to?"

"Right at the end of the hallway, sir," Kun nods, pushing the wheelchair down the long hallway.

"What's your name?" He doesn't know why it interests him, but it does. His mind starts to flood with questions as he pushed the wheelchair along- her name, why her parents aren't here, why she's in this place.

"Samantha, what's yours?"

"Sergio."

"That doesn't sound very British."

That seems to get a laugh out of him, "It's because I'm not."

"Is that why your accent is weird?" Samantha turns her head around, raising an eyebrow.

"I guess it is," he smiles. "I'm from Argentina."

"Argentina?" Her eyes went even wider than before. "Isn't that next to the Falkland Islands?"

"Las Islas Malvinas," he says with a smile. "It is. How do you know?"

"My dad has a friend that fought in the war."

"My dad has a friend that fought in the war too," they smile at each other, and she turns her head back around as they keep rolling down the hallway.

An icy sensation courses through him as they reach their destination. 'Spinal Cord Injuries' is listed, amongst other things, in a sign next to the glass door they go through. The lady at the front desk waves at her, and tells Samantha that they'll see her in a few minutes. Kun pushes her chair over to the waiting area, and promptly sits down next to her to wait.

He couldn't hold the question back. "What happened to you?"

She didn't seem to be very bothered by it, "I slipped on a poolside and hit my back."

He nods quietly, and remains silent until a doctor comes out of a room, takes Samantha's wheelchair and starts pushing her back to where he came from. She turns around and waves at him, and he can't do anything other than smile back and try to find his way back to where he came from.

-

It's raining lightly outside, and Kun can hear the beginnings of a thunderstorm in the distance. He goes outside to take a breath, because the hospital becomes suffocating. It's as if Kun can't take a proper breath, trying desperately to get more and more air into his lungs, but failing each time.

Vincent finds him sitting next to his car on the pavement, eyes red and hoodie pulled over his head. He sounds like he's choking on his own misery, which to be perfectly honest, he is. It's hard to even pin-point why he's crying, whether it is because of Samantha, so young cheerful, even if she is stuck in a wheelchair; whether it's because of all the kids in the building behind him, putting their own pain behind and trying their hardest to be happy; or the impending realisation that he's unable to get Leo out of his mind, that he's unable to stop thinking about what they'd said, that he is unable to fucking move on and forget about the fact that Leo didn't love him back.

As Vincent drives him back home, tears still running down his cheeks, Kun decides that maybe he's crying because he'll never be happy again.

At least that's the way things seem.

-

2.

It's lunch and Kun is sitting by himself near a window.

During the past few days, no-one had even dared to approach him during their breaks and meals.

Today is different.

Silva walks over, places his tray of food in front of Kun's, and plops down on the chair next to him. Kun momentarily looks up at him, gives him a half smile, and then goes back to picking at some broccoli on his plate.

"I brought you something," Silva says, and Kun looks at him in surprise.

"What is it?"

Digging around in his pocket, Silva takes out a Rubik's cube, placing it in front of Kun.

"Why?" Kun picks it up, not only confused as to why Silva was giving him a Rubik's cube, but also as to why it wasn't shuffled.

Silva does not answer, simply picks it back up and starts turning it in all sorts of directions, until the cube is about as messed up as Kun feels. "This is your life right now. Fix it."

Surprised at Silva's sudden move, Kun blinks, "I'm sorry?"

Silva just smiles, "I can solve it in less than 20 moves. Go on now. I'm waiting."

Kun picks it up and starts messing about with it.

It makes no sense to him, but it was far better than moving broccoli around his plate.

-

At night, Kun tucks himself into bed early.

He's about to turn off the lights, when he sees the Rubik's cube sitting on his desk. Unknowing as to why he does so, Kun gets up and brings it to bed with him. He sits there, shuffling pieces about, turning them every which way until his brain can't cope with it anymore.

20 moves, Silva had said.

A flash of anger courses through him, and he starts moving the pieces about more violently, with no thought put into his actions. Stress eventually gets the best of him, because it has been more than one fucking hour and he hasn't even managed to get one face of the cube right. He throws the cube across his room, and it hits something which Kun can't see but he knows it breaks because of the sound it makes when it hits the floor.

He doesn't cry that night, but he does feel like suffocating himself with his pillow, if such thing was even possible.

-

The next day Kun wakes up and walks over to examine what he'd broken the night before.

To his relief, it had only been a plain white mug he'd found lying around his kitchen.

He then sees the Rubik's cube laying on the floor, so he picks it up and sighs in exhaustion.

Maybe if he were Silva, he could solve his life in under 20 moves.

-

3.

If there was one thing Joe Hart did not lack, it was motivation.

And when he got something in his mind, he would not give up until he achieved it.

Kun is sitting by his locker, furiously texting someone, eyebrows scrunched up in focus. Joe takes this as a good sign- he hadn't seen Kun use his phone in days. He walks over to him, tapping him on the shoulder. Kun jumps in surprise, locking his phone and looking up at him.

"What?"

Joe just raises his eyebrows, "I was just wondering if you could come outside for a second with me."

Puzzled, Kun goes back to his phone, "Why?"

"I need to show you something," he says, but Kun just ignores him, switching from app to app and frowning even more. Joe was starting to lose his patience, and in one swift move he takes Kun's phone from his hands, walking over to his own locker and locking it inside despite the small Argentine's protests.

"What the fuck, Joe?"

"Are you going to come with me, or would you rather spend the rest of the day without your phone?"

Kun rolls his eyes, glaring at Joe as he follows him through the training complex.

-

They end up at a small indoor pitch, in which Kun had never been in before. He's puzzled as to why he's there, and when Joe starts tying up his cleats and adjusting his gloves, Kun gets it.

"This is stupid."

Joe laughs, "We've got a big game on Sunday, and if someone saw you kick a ball right now, they'd laugh in my face if I told them you were last season's top scorer in the Premier League."

Kun sighs, because to some extent, what Joe is saying is true. He ties his cleats up as well, and when Joe stands in goal, Kun starts kicking.

-

20 minutes have passed and Kun hasn't been able to score at least once.

He's stressing out, because every shot he takes goes wide, hits the post, or is such an easy strike that Joe doesn't even have to make the most minimal effort to catch it. Groaning, he kicks another ball, which goes so high that Joe laughs, which is what sends Kun over the edge.

"Fuck you!" Kun screams, kicking another ball in Joe's general direction. A fluid string of Spanish comes out of Kun's mouth, things his mother would probably be ashamed of. "¡A la mierda con todos ustedes! Fuck you!" He kicks anothe ball again, and his throat is starting to feel raw.

Joe doesn't do anything to make Kun calm down. He simply makes sure to move to one side in case Kun's shots hit him, and watched Kun scream in a frenzy.

He kept going at it for a while, screaming until it was physically painful to keep doing so, kicking balls at the walls until there were none left in his proximity. When he seems to calm down, Joe walks over to him. Kun lets himself fall onto the grass, lying down and taking deep breaths until the anger subsides.

"You ok?"

Kun is silent for a long while, until he finally speaks up.

"Why doesn't he love me back?"

-

4.

It's a rainy Thursday afternoon when Ángel shows up at Kun's door.

He's wearing an old sweater, and looks like he's walked all the way from his house to Kun's. They don't say anything, and Kun simply moves to one side to let him in. As he shuts the door, Ángel walks over to him and gives him a hug which irradiates warmth despite his current state. Kun lets himself get lost into it, can feel tears prickling at the back of his eyes already, and they haven't even exchanged a single word. When they pull away, Kun moves into the kitchen, sitting down on one of the stools, Ángel following suit.

"So, Paris, eh?"

Ángel just shrugs, "I sold my house. Came over to pick the last few boxes up."

"You'll do great there. You've got Pocho and Javier to keep you company too."

Chuckling, Ángel looks down, "Yeah, training sessions are going to be interesting."

They fall silent after that, both of them trying to avoid the inevitable topic that Ángel is so desperate to ask about. He breaks after a few minutes.

"How are you holding up?"

Kun laughs bitterly, "I'm not."

Ángel bites his lip, "I talked to Leo the other day," he takes Kun's silence as an invitation to continue. "He says he misses you."

The laughter that comes out of Kun's mouth leaves an acid taste in his mouth, "Misses me? He hasn't talked to me since we left Chile."

"He says he wants to give you space."

"Space? I can get over him just fine," he rolls his eyes, lets out an angry breath. "Tell him to go fuck himself."

Ángel is silent after that. It drags on for a few more minutes, until Ángel decides it's time to leave. They say their goodbyes, wish each other luck, and when Kun finally shuts the door, he slides down against it, placing his head in his hands and letting the tears fall.

He doesn't know what he misses more, everything he and Leo were, or everything he wished they would be.

-

5.

He decides to take up boxing one day.

It's not like he's never done it before, but he usually preferred other conditioning methods.

The room is empty, a bright flash of light shining through one of the windows. He puts on his gloves, and walks over to a punching sack, starting off slowly, punching it with rhythmic blows over and over again.

After a while he begins to get tired, but he pushes himself to keep going, to not stop. The plastic from the gloves makes his fists heavy, makes it feel like he's not really doing anything at all, so he takes them off, along with his shirt, and starts punching the sack with his bare knuckles.

The material scrapes against his soft skin, and after a few blows his knuckles are tender and pink. He keeps going though, blows beginning to become less organised and more violent, each impact sending waves of pain across his hand. His vision is starting to blur, and when he takes a good look at the beige material of the punching bag, he can see the small red stains on its surface. Relentlessly, Kun keeps punching it, packing more and more energy and anger into each hit. He relishes in the pain, in the stinging of his knuckles and the pleading from his body for him to stop. But he wants to hurt himself, wants to see how much more broken he can become. He is destroying himself from the inside out, and it gives him a deranged sort of satisfaction as he does so.

Finally, he stops when he feels like he's about to pass out, and rests himself against a wall. His knuckles are completely destroyed, and he feels like vomiting everything he has in his stomach. The exhaustion that suddenly overtakes him can't be a good sign, but Kun doesn't care, let's himself be lulled to sleep by the feeling of his own agony.

-

He doesn't realise where he is when he wakes up.

That is until he sees Aleks throwing some punches in the corner.

"Aleks?"

The Serbian turns around, walking over to where Kun is, and sits down next to him, "I didn't want to wake you up," Kun just nods, and Aleks takes his hand, examining his knuckles. "No gloves?"

"I wanted it to hurt."

Aleks nods. He was never a man to question other people's motives.

"What are you doing here, Aleks?"

"Isn't it obvious? I'm boxing."

"I didn't mean that," Kun rolls his eyes. "You're so... Calm. What are you doing here?"

Aleks zones out for a moment, before coming up with a suitable answer to Kun's question, "It's how I control my anger."

At that, Kun looks up at him, "What?"

"Everything I feel, I let it out here. It's why I am the way I am. Did you think I was some soulless monster who didn't feel anything?"

Kun laughs, "Maybe."

Smirking, Aleks stands up, "Why don't you try again?" He tosses some gloves at Kun. "Properly this time."

He puts the gloves on, grimacing as some of the wounds on his knuckles open again. Aleks is standing in the ring, and helps Kun up onto it.

"Take a swing."

Bewildered, Kun widens his eyes, "What?"

"C'mon, take a swing."

Kun gives him a half-hearted punch in the shoulder, making Aleks laugh.

"Is that all you've got?" Once more, Kun punches Aleks, this time on his uncovered chest. Aleks is still smiling when he starts trying to rile Kun up. "Leo doesn't love you, Kun?"

"Shut up," he throws another punch.

"Is that why you've been moping all these days, Kun?"

"I said shut up," he punches him once more, this time harder, with an intention to try and hurt Aleks.

"You've looked pathetic. Not eating, missing every single fucking shot you take," Kun punches Aleks harder and repeatedly now, anger building up not only because of what he is saying, but because of the fact that his punches couldn't even make him budge. "And now coming here, hurting yourself because you can't bear the fact that the boy you were in love with doesn't love you back. What are you, a high-schooler?"

"I said shut up!" Kun shouts. He goes into a frenzy, punching Aleks anywhere he can with every ounce of power he's got in his body. Aleks takes every hit, until he can't hold it anymore and gives Kun a single blow in the stomach that leaves him holding his gut and crouching down.

When they both catch their breath, Kun looks up at him again.

"Feel better?" Aleks plops down, and Kun does so too.

"Much better."

"Did it work?"

"In a way, yeah," he waits a beat before apologising. "I'm sorry if I hurt you."

"Don't worry about it," Aleks gives him a small smile. "I didn't mean anything I said, by the way.

"You were right though," Kun smiles. "I'm pathetic."

Aleks sighs, draping an arm over Kun's shoulder. "It's not pathetic Kun. It's bound to happen to everyone sometime in their life."

"Has it ever happened to you?"

A sad look took over Aleks' eyes, "Of course it has. I was 15, and I was desperately in love with her, had been since we were 7 and got paired up for a play," he looks up at the roof, as if trying to remember. "Her name was Adrijana, and to me, she was the most beautiful girl in Serbia. I did everything to get her to like me. I bought her presents, I helped her with homework, I carried her books. And when I asked her out one day, she laughed at me," he looks over at Kun then, as if saying 'at least you didn't get ridiculed'. "She said she'd never go out with someone as boring as me."

"She must be regretting that now, eh?"

Aleks laughs, "What I'm trying to say is, shit happens. And sometimes it will take a very long time for things to fix themselves, but they will. I promise."

Smiling, Kun gives Aleks a small hug, "Thanks. For everything."

"No problem," with that, he stands up and leaves, leaving Kun alone with his thoughts.

He wasn't going to lie, things weren't looking up.

But at least he knew that perhaps this wasn't the end of the world.

 

 

 

 


	2. (+1 who actually does)

(+1)

A couple of months had passed since Kun's heart had been, to say the least, shattered.

He wasn't going to pretend he was ok. He wasn't going to pretend like he didn't think about Leo every night, or that he didn't cry about him every so often.

But he wasn't going to pretend he was dying either.

He was almost back to his usual, bubbly self during training, meaning that Vincent wouldn't have to make a fool of himself and Aleks had someone to roll his eyes at again. Raheem and Kevin became good friends with him, and Kun was relieved to have someone to talk to that wasn't- to his knowledge- aware of everything that had happened to him that summer. It was refreshing to be able to have a conversation without the constant worry of _that_  coming up.

He still felt a fire in his chest, a burning in his lungs, but it wasn't because of Leo, or because training was exhausting. He felt it because the need to score goals was back.

He wanted to be great again.

And he proved that in their match against Newcastle United.

When it was over, he almost couldn't believe it. Part of him was slightly angry at Manuel, because he had a feeling that if he'd played a little while longer, he would have given the scoreboard double digits to display. But at the same time he was grateful, because that night at home he felt like he couldn't move, even if he tried.

He was lying on his bed, aimlessly scrolling through twitter amongst hundreds of tweets congratulating him, when he got a Whatsapp from an all too familiar name. Hesitating, he opened it.

 **Lionel Messi** : _Congrats on the 5 goals! Amazing game :)_

Kun wasn't sure what to reply- hell, he wasn't even sure if he should reply at all. But Leo's *online* was staring back at him menacingly, and he thought that maybe if he did reply, he might not seem so pathetic after all.

 **Sergio Agüero** : _Thanks, means a lot!_

Sighing, he rolled over on his bed. Not only was he already physically exhausted, but that text from Leo brought back so many memories that he was starting to feel emotionally drained as well. It was all flooding his senses once again, the despair, the loneliness, the longing for his touch and for his feelings to be reciprocated. The cold was starting to get to him, and he was taken back to that night at the training complex in Argentina, when the temperatures had dropped during winter and Leo and Kun had shared a bed, staying up late with mate and the TV on, shoulder to shoulder, watching the time fly by.

He wasn't sure when he started crying, but he sure as hell hated himself for it. He'd done everything he could to forget about Leo, about what had happened back in Chile. He'd invested time and energy in hanging out with his teammates, paying attention to them and trying to put as much focus as he could in his training. All that, just to be triggered by some fucking text message. For a moment he was starting to regret having scored five goals, but then he realised how stupid he was being, and tried to regain some composure.

-

It was around twenty minutes later that his doorbell rang.

He strongly thought about not answering, but then he realised it was almost ten o'clock at night, and surely it was someone important or an emergency. Throwing on a hoodie, he ran downstairs and opened the door, just to find a soaked Samir Nasri standing at his doorstep.

Sami looked rather astonished when Kun opened the door, "Oh- Kun, hey, I-"

"What are you doing here?" Kun realised how bitter that sounded as soon as he said it, but he didn't do anything to correct his tone either.

"I just wanted to stop by and, I don't know, hang out?" It sounded like not even Samir knew what he was doing, but he couldn't stand the rain anymore so he cocked his head sideways and raised his eyebrows at Kun, "Think I could come in?"

Kun didn't say anything, just stepped aside and closed the door behind Sami.

"Sorry for being here so late, I just realised I hadn't really spoken to you after the match very much and I couldn't sleep so I- hey, are you ok?" Kun's eyes were still red from crying, and there was just something about his attitude that seemed *odd.* Kun had showed up at Sami's house countless times in the middle of the night because he'd had a sudden craving to 'destroy' him at FIFA, and vice-versa.

"Yeah, I'm just-" Kun gulped. "Listen, let me lend you something to wear, you're going to catch a cold with that," he gestured at Sami's sweater, which was drenched, as well as his track pants. They walked upstairs to the master bedroom, where Kun took out an old Atletico Madrid hoodie, faded from using it so much, and a spare pair of Man City sweat pants from last season. Samir took them to the bathroom to change, and when he walked out he saw Kun sitting on the floor, back against the wall.

Walking over to him, he slid down against the wall, sitting beside him, "Kun, what happened?"

"He texted me," Samir stayed quiet, unsure of what to say. "And I realised I'm still in love with him, and fuck- I just can't seem to keep it together." Tears were streaming down his face again. "I thought I was over him, thought that maybe he was now some distant memory that I didn't feel so strongly for. But then he texts me and it's as if someone had just ripped a wound open, and it all came pouring out again. And I swear, Sami, I've been trying so hard to get over it, but you don't know what it feels like to love someone so much, and get nothing in return."

Sami was quiet for a moment, until he broke the silence with a low whisper, "I do know what it feels like."

"What?"

He spoke with more authority now, turned towards Kun and looked him in the eye, "I know what it feels like. It feels like there was this- this hole in your chest, and every time you looked at them or heard their voice, that hole would fill up again, but you'd remember how they _don't_  love you back, and you'd feel like dying because, fuck, you can't do _anything_  about it. And you'd daydream all day and listen to sad music and just lie around and do absolutely _nothing_ , because your love for them was so strong it made you almost dysfunctional. And after a while you start getting control back, and you think that _maybe_ , just maybe, you might be over them, but truth is, you're not. You've just grown used to the pain, and perhaps accepted the fact that they probably don't love you back."

Silence fell upon them again, and Kun was staring right at Sami, "Does she know?"

"I've never told him."

Both their hearts were beating faster now.

"Why not?"

"Because I know for a fact that he doesn't love me back."

"Tell him. Then maybe you can get over him."

Sami laughed bitterly. "Look how that worked out for you."

"I've been in love with him for almost ten years. How long have you loved him for?"

"Two."

Kun smiled, "It'll make it better, give you some closure. Trust me."

"Fine then. I love you, Kun."

Sami closed the gap, and pressed his lips to Kun's.

-

They woke up the next day facing each other, tangled in the sheets and pressed together trying to shield themselves from the Manchester cold.

Last night's events had gone by so fast, that Kun had forgotten to turn on the heating system. Not like what had gone down between them wasn't heated enough, obviously. Kun had been surprised with the kiss, if not in shock, but he'd gone with it, until eventually he had Sami pinned under him in his bed, both their clothes strewn over the floor.

When Sami's eyes fluttered open, Kun was already smiling at him. Sami leaned in, giving Kun a small peck on the lips.

"Morning," Kun said, wrapping his arms around Sami and pulling him closer to him.

"Hey," he smiled.

"Listen, I know this isn't the best way to start the morning but-"

Sami sighed, "I know. It was a one time thing, we were desperate, I get it. I won't get clingy."

Kun laughed, "God, would you let me finish?" He rolled his eyes playfully. "As I was saying, you know I'm not over Leo yet. And last night, I agree, it came out of desperation. But that doesn't mean I didn't enjoy myself," He smiled down at Sami, "I enjoyed myself, _a lot._  And I'd like to do that again sometime. With you."

"What, like, friends with benefits?"

"No. I mean I'd like to give it a shot. Something... else. But you need to give me time, because it's not fair to you if we have something serious and I'm not putting a hundred percent into it. You need to give me time to fully forget, and you only deserve the best, Sami."

"I don't care how long it takes, Kun. I've waited two fucking years for anything, do you think I can't wait a couple of months?" They laughed. "Besides, we can still do... Stuff, can't we?"

"You're dirtier than you look, you know?" Samir wagged his eyebrows. "But yeah. And I'm not saying it's going to be easy, it's not. But we'll try."

Under the sheets, Sami found Kun's hand and laced their fingers together. "We'll work it out. We always do."

-

They were downstairs in Kun's kitchen, and he was helping Sami squeeze some oranges for their juice as he prepared crêpe batter. He was blabbering on about how crêpes suzette were the best crêpes, even better than with Nutella, and how his mother used to make them for him without the liquor, so he never quite acquired the taste for them with it. Kun smiled all along, and laughed when Sami looked stunned as he flipped a crêpe perfectly on the first try. He couldn't help but smiling throughout their breakfast as they ate in silence, stealing glances at each other throughout their meal. And in the afternoon, when Sami had fallen asleep on his shoulder as they watched old re-runs of movies they used to watch when they were kids, Kun realised that perhaps he didn't have Leo, but that _definitely_  wasn't the end of the world.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I'm planning on writing a prequel and a sequel to this :) All mistakes are my own, and I was too lazy to proofread so there must be a lot. Once again, thank you!


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